


Necessary Questions

by IdleLeaves (orphan_account)



Category: Rosencrantz & Guildenstern are Dead - Stoppard
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-06
Updated: 2010-01-06
Packaged: 2017-10-07 21:07:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/69254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/IdleLeaves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The whole prelude was, when it came down to it, more or less extraneous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Necessary Questions

After the candle had been snuffed, Guildenstern managed five minutes of blissful silence. Approximately, anyhow. It may have been four, or six, but at any rate it was less than ten. Then, covers rustled in the berth across from his.

"Awfully dark in here, isn't it?" Rosencrantz sounded, for all the world, like he was making small talk with a stranger. Far too cheerful.

"It generally is, at night. Or when one is in a room without windows and the only candle had been extinguished."

"Do you suppose this is what people see when they can't see at all?"

"... Pardon?" Nothing Rosencrantz ever said, however random, particularly stunned him anymore. At most, it registered as a kind of mild surprise, a half-raise of an eyebrow.

"People who can't see." These things always seemed to make such sense to Rosencrantz, inside his head. "Do you suppose... it's dark all the time? Or do you suppose it's like what you see when you close your eyes in daylight?"

It might have been food for thought, at another time; it was late, though, and the day had been long. Pushing Rosencrantz to get to the inevitable point of the conversation would only result in avoidance, in non-sequiturs and rhetorical questions. Best to just play along as best he could, as to not drag it out any longer than necessary. _Is any of this strictly necessary, though?_ he thought, idly, and answered himself a moment later. _Yes._

To Rosencrantz, he said only: "Aren't you tired at all?"

"Should I be?"

"Considering we've been travelling since before sunrise?"

"Have we?"

"Yes."

"Statement."

Suddenly too tired to even formulate a proper response, Guildenstern only sighed. He waited for the next inquiry, but it didn't come; instead, a full minute later, there was a quiet "I'm sorry."

"It's all right," he replied, and meant it. "Just go to sleep."

"... I can't," Rosencrantz admitted, sending the conversation back down a familiar path.

"Why not?"

"The bed won't stay _still_." He sounded so genuinely put out by this that Guildenstern almost laughed at him; instead, he settled for a vague smile that couldn't be seen in the darkness.

"The bed isn't moving. The boat is."

"I don't like boats."

"You liked them well enough this morning."

"This _morning_, we--" Rosencrantz stopped, abruptly. He waited a beat before starting again, this time almost apologetically. "Do you think... would it... maybe?" he stumbled, then fell silent.

He never could quite figure out how to phrase the question.

"All right, then," Guildenstern said, like it was a spontaneous decision, an unfamiliar situation instead of one that repeated itself every time they were away from their respective homes. "Come here."

The berths weren't particularly spacious for one, let alone two. Guildenstern found himself with his back pressed firmly against the wall, Rosencrantz just barely able to lie in front of him.

"Are you comfortable?" Rosencrantz asked. He'd somehow managed to arrange their blankets so all the important parts were covered.

"Not at all."

"Oh." He shifted, as if to return to his own bed, but Guildenstern's arm around his waist prevented further movement.

_Not at all_ had been something of an overstatement, honestly. It was a snug fit, yes, but not altogether uncomfortable; it was familiar, too, and certainly warmer than sleeping alone. Guildenstern still thought that the whole prelude was, when it came down to it, more or less extraneous, but their conversations-in-darkness and almost-asked questions seemed to hold some importance for Rosencrantz. That, in itself, was reason enough for all of it. "Just go to sleep."

He felt Rosencrantz's half-awake sigh as well as heard it. "All right."


End file.
